Titan's Kingdom
by RavenousMystery
Summary: AU - Centered on Raven. There is no pairings set as of yet, (Tho, R&R-4-EVER!) it's kind of dark, rated for safety. Set in a medieval fantasy setting. Characters will probably be a little OOC, because I am basing them off of the comic as well as the show, not to mention, trying to keep it realistic with the time/setting. This is my first FF, so PLEASE READ REVIEW! Please&Thank you!
1. A Hunted Titan

**Author's Note; **_Hello everyone! This is my very first FF ever. I am a VERY active reader on here and have been for years, but just the other day, I had this idea for a story and I have gotten no sleep because of it. It refuses to leave my head until I put it on paper... er.. computer. Anyways, I am not sure how this story will turn out or even what exactly it is going to be about, but I hope that whoever decides to read this will enjoy it, or at least find it interesting. Happy reading! Please leave me feedback on what you think, good or bad, I would love to hear what you thought about it. Thanks and enjoy!_

**Warnings: I am not sure where I am taking this fic, so I am not sure what the rating should be, I am going to stick to M to be safe. This chapter contains blood and gore in somewhat graphic details. I am also sensing that this fic will be dark, so no fields of wildflowers. If you are not up for it, please hit the back button at the top of your browser. If this stuff does interest you, feel free to read. You have been warned.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, because if I did.. It would not have been a kid's show on CN.**

* * *

**Titan's Kingdom**

A single tear rolled down her gaunt ashen cheek. Her young face was drawn and worn as she silently watched the chaos surrounding her. Her haunted amethyst eyes roamed over the bodies slowly, barely registering the twisted, bloody faces of the holy women and care takers who had watched over her for the last five years. Her thin wispy body shivered slightly despite the heat of the raging fire, blazing all around her.

The question, 'Why does everyone always die?' echoed around in her small head. There was no one left to answer her, so the question would stay there, in her head. She tried to swallow, but there was no saliva to swallow. It felt as if all of her body's liquids had been sucked up into the fire and turned into nothingness. Even the singular tear that had managed to escape her eye was gone, not even a moist trail left to remember it by.

Her lips quivered softly as her eyes made contact with her favorite bed mate, for, no longer was he the adorably fluffy kitten who slept on her pillow every night. No, now, now his silky red fur that she had so loved to pet until he purred in delight, was charred black and smelled of burnt death. His beautiful blue eyes that used to stare up at her pleadingly, in order to be held, were now melted and bubbling out of his tiny head. His cute little mouth was frozen open in a silent scream of terror.

She tore her eyes away from the creature, the image burned into her retinas. She forcibly turned her body away from the carnage surrounding her and, with effort, made her trembling legs carry her in the opposite direction. There was no point in staying there. She was the only one left alive.

As she stepped over the mutilated body of what was once a calf, she thought about how ironic the situation was. She was alive. Thousands of people and animals were dead. She was the original target, yet, here she was, living and breathing while everyone around her was as toasted and black as her evening fire-pit.

She remained detached as her foot sloshed through a particularly deep puddle of thick red blood. Her body was numb. She felt nothing. Her mind was numb. Her thoughts were unemotional. Her heart was numb. Because if It wasn't, she would not be able to go on living.

She reached up to tuck her recently chopped locks behind her ear and away from her vision. The holy women had known something was wrong this morning, for they had ushered her into the holy place, taking her book away from her, and without explanation, hacked off her long, limp, locks. She had screeched in horror as she watched the deep purple strands fall around her feet. The holy women had slapped her soundly then, right on the face, which had never happened before. Then they told her to take off her light green dress, which had been her favorite, and to get into a pair of dirty Grey breeches. After practically yanking the breeches on, the holy women began to bind her breasts, tightly, with some scraps of cloth. One holy woman held her hands above her head, while another pulled the cloth tighter and tighter, until she thought she was going to pass out from lack of breath. It had hurt so much, it probably still would, if she wasn't so numb.

She fingered the rough fabric of the boy's tunic absent-mindedly, as she wondered how the holy women had known there was going to be an attack that evening. 'If they had known about it, why had no one told her, and why had no one fled?' It was another one of the questions echoing around in her skull that would get no answer.

Her foot caught on something and she stumbled forward, her arms not working enough to catch herself, she crashed face first into the harsh earth. Pain shot through her face with enough force that it took her breath away. Struggling to move her aching body, she sluggishly pushed against the earth hard enough to roll herself onto her side. She blinked against the harsh pain and tried not to swallow the blood that came gushing out of her nose and down into her mouth. 'Well, that is one way to end the numbness.' She thought, though she doubted if she would ever like to use this method again.

Bringing a shaking hand up to her face, she felt her nose and had to bite back a cry from the stinging pain and the fact that her nose would never again be like that of a pixie. From the feeling of it, she would be lucky if it stayed on her face. Grabbing a hold of her nose, after locating it underneath her right eye, she bit down on her tongue and wrenched it back to the middle of her face, where it belonged. Her scream was sharp and long as blood poured down her throat and pooled in her stomach, causing waves of nausea to hit her, along with bouts of dizziness. She closed her eyes and refused to let go of her nose, until she was positive that it would not go wandering around her face. When she was sure that it would not move again, she gingerly released the pressure on her nose. No sooner had she placed her hands in her lap, when her stomach decided to rebel against the blood build up. She clenched her delicate hands into fists as she doubled over and heaved. Bile and blood came spurting out of her mouth and nose so forcefully, she pitched forward. The pain so intense, she saw colors behind her eye lids until everything went blessedly black.

Blinking her eyes open, she flinched at the nasty smell of bile, blood, and rotting flesh that permeated the air. Warily touching her face reinforced her decision to not breathe out of her nose for awhile. Her face was so swollen, she doubted anyone would recognize her as herself. Taking a big gulp of air through her mouth proved difficult both because of the bindings and because the stench could now be tasted. She had always been a curious child, but never had she had the desire to know what death tasted like. Well, she knew now anyway.

She struggled to sit up, her head and muscles protesting. When fully erect, her face and skull started to pound mercilessly. She could not control the small groan that escaped her throat as she tried to stand. She had no idea where she was, for her eyes were much too swollen to properly use, but she knew she could not be too far from the holy place because the smell of death was everywhere. Unless of course, the smell was coming from her. Cocking her head to the side, she lifted the hem of the scratchy tunic to her tender nose and took a sniff. Instantly, she regretted it. Not only was the smell indeed coming from her, but the action went against her earlier better judgment and caused her nose to start bleeding down her throat again.

"Great.." She moaned out in her harsh raspy voice as she tilted her head down so the blood would not pool in her innards again. The sound of her voice felt strange to her ears. Not because she sounded much different from her usual self, because she really didn't, but because she had not heard a sound until that very moment. She thought back to the last sound she had heard that day, and was surprised to note that it had been as the holy women were pulling her roughly through the kitchens, all dressed up as a lad, and pushed her into the storage room, telling her in loud whispers to not make a sound and to pretend she was a deaf-mute kitchen boy as she shoved a large cap over her small head. She assumed it was to hide the odd color of her hair. No one else had hair the same color purple as she did.

After that, it was as if her ears really did close up. She had not heard the raiders come, nor had she heard the explosions that rocked the holy place, eventually bringing the building down around her. She had not heard the people screaming and crying. She should have, really, because she could see it. Right through the cracks of the storage room door. But it all happened in a slow motion, like she was watching a strange theatrical play with no noise. Then, she remembers being blown backwards, the storage room door flying into her, sending her at least twenty paces backwards into the far wall. The pain was intense, then, darkness. After she awoke, there was nothing to be heard. She was the only one alive to make any noise.

Grabbing her head, which felt like it weighed as much as her favorite thoroughbred, she rocked herself into a standing position. Slowly, because really, it hurt, she pried her swollen eyes open and tried to see over her puffy flesh. She was still on the path that led from the holy place to the holy well. She was well over one hundred paces away from the holy place, which was good. She was still unsure of where she was headed. What place would want a beaten twelve-year-old girl pretending to be a deaf-mute kitchen boy from the holy place? As far as she knew, no one. In fact, as far as she knew, there was no where TO go! She had been on this particular piece of holy ground for five years and the only people she had seen were the holy women and the care takers who had come from her previous home with her. There were servants and children that would frequent the holy place, but they all lived on the holy land as well. As far as she knew, all of their food came from the holy land and the animals, no one brought them anything, so she doubted there was a merchant around, let alone a town with an inn.

Sighing, she decided to relieve her aching bladder in the nearby bushes. Ever so slowly, she trudged over to the biggest bush, as it would provide the most cover. She was surprised to find herself limping, favoring her right foot. Knowing it would be futile to try and look down at her foot, as she could not see over the swelling of her nose, she waited until she had sat down to urinate before she brought her leg up to her eye level to look at the damage. She sucked in a tight breath as she took in the sight of her twisted limb. Her poor foot was three times its original size and a very deep shade of blackish purple. It made the ashen color of her skin look even more ashen than it usually did. Setting her leg down gently, she grit her teeth in frustration as she looked around for something to wipe herself with.

'What other twelve-year-old girl has such rotten luck?' She asked herself mentally. She was not willing to draw attention to her location in case anymore of those raiders just so happened to be looking for any survivors. 'No other person could ever have your bad luck, God specifically gave it all to you.' She thought bitterly. She knew God hated her. There was not a single drop of doubt in her mind. She was created out of hatred, meanness and Satan were what her soul was made up of, and she was so hideous even her mother had died after looking at her. Everything she touched or loved either died or got taken away from her. She was un-lovable, unwanted, and the cost of many lives. She had been told this her whole life, so, why should she believe differently? This was the longest she had ever lived in one place, where no one had died or left. Now… Now it was time to move on again. She just did not know where she was supposed to go. Normally, there were backup plans, but unfortunately, this holy land WAS her backup plan. They weren't supposed to actually find her here!

She could feel that it would be dark soon and knew that she needed water and cover before she could even think about relaxing. It was strange and a little unnerving how she could Feel the darkness, like it was a part of her. The holy women had shrieked and thrown holy water on her when she made that comment once. After that, she realized it was easier to keep to herself. She did all of her talking internally. She even made up other versions of "her" in her head so she would not feel so lonely. They actually became very useful on days, or nights, when she felt alone and unsure of why she existed. She would grab a small looking glass, close her eyes, and pretend she entered it, where she would meet with all the different aspects of herself that she keeps locked up away from everyone. Her favorite, was Darkness. She looked just like her, only Her hair was the most beautiful shade of black, with matching twinkling eyes and She wore dark dresses and liked to hide in only the darkest of places in her mind. There were many more, but Darkness was her favorite, because she was the most mysterious. The others were aspects of herself that she knew already, but Darkness was elusive, always trying to draw her further into her mind, promising answers if she would just look Deeper… It was just a little too deep for her liking, so she would always retreat. Afraid that if she went any deeper, she would never be able to come back to the light.

Rubbing her head to relieve the aching, she stood slowly and hobbled back to the path, looking around for what it was that had caused her gravity induced misfortune. Shaking her head slowly and grimacing, she turned away from the severed arm lying on the path and decided not to curse the owner of the arm for causing her fall. The poor person was unlucky enough.

Walking along the path proved both difficult and tiring. The path itself was only slightly overgrown, but it seemed as if her enlarged limb was magically attracted to any part of the earth that was uneven, causing her to pitch in every which way precariously before catching her balance again. She threw the over-big boy's cap into the woods with a mental curse that would have the holy women's corpses shrieking in outrage, before it could slip back down over her eyes again, impairing her already too impaired vision.

Eyes suddenly shining, amidst the misshapen and discolored face, she let out a small gasp of glee when the holy well finally graced her vision. She tried not to hold her breath as she waddled over to the holy well, her mouth instantly unbearably dry. She smiled, even though the action caused much more pain and discomfort than it did pleasure, as she grasped the cool stones that made up the base of the well.

Her painful smile quickly turned into a painful frown as she looked down into the very deep, very shallow, depths of the very old well. There was no way to get to the water without procuring some sort of rope or a ladder and heading down there. She was sorely tempted to just dive down and happily live the rest of her sorry existence in the clear liquid. But that was impossible, aside from the fact that she would likely not survive the fall, she did not like the notion of surviving this attack to be felled by a holy well. She clenched tightly to the cold stone and sent a horrific glare upwards toward the ever darkening sky. The glare made all the more terrifying by the crusted blood around her abnormally swollen nose and mouth. Her face rightly resembled more of a demon creature than that of a little girl.

"Really?!" She screeched out painfully, "Am I so cursed that You withhold water from me simply because it's Holy?! Am I to die from thirst?! Why did You spare me from the raiders then?!" Throat throbbing from the words being wrenched from her throat, she quickly sank to the ground and massaged her underused vocals. She should not have shouted like that, she knew. If the raiders were still around, they would know where she was now. She had to move. Swallowing her nonexistent saliva, she steeled herself to stand again.

The soft step behind her caused the hairs on the back of her bruised neck to stand on end. Her eyes widened and her palms grew moist. If she had not just relieved herself moments before, she would have done so now, in her breeches. She could sense the evil radiating from the being standing behind her, the malicious intent pouring off of him in waves. She could not pretend to be a deaf-mute kitchen boy, she knew, because her cap was gone. Her limp strands of dark purple hair were still noticeable in the lighting, no one else had hair this color. She was reminded of that fact daily. She would never forget it.

Holding herself rigid, she knew that if she was going to die, she would rather face her killer directly, than give him the satisfaction of lopping off her head while she was presumably unaware. Slowly, she turned her torso towards the offending creature with the intent of killing her. Her puffy face must have startled the raider, for his body jerked right as he took aim and fired his arrow. The arrow hit the well a mere breath away from her bloody ear. She took pleasure in the fact that her face was terrifyingly hideous. For the first time since she fell, or ever actually, she wanted to kiss the person who belonged to that severed arm!

Having recovered from his initial shock, the man nocked his bow and took aim, right at her head. She told herself to breath and to stare him down, hoping that by doing so, he might at least feel unnerved or guilty that his prey is staring him down. She held her breath as she watched, again in slow motion, as his fingers slid off of the bow's string.

Then as quietly as he had arrived, he was laying on the ground at her feet, a battle-axe embedded in the top of his big meaty head. She jumped slightly as his blood slapped patterns on her face and tunic. It took her a moment to realize that the man was dead, his weapon tossed aside, a new man towered over him, and she was alive. In a daze, she shook her head slightly, as if trying to get her head back in regular motion, then jumped again when she realized that the new man was calling her name in horror and awe. She had not heard her name spoken in almost five years. So long in fact, that she did not even think of that name as her own. Her eyes widened as he continued to call her name, and she pressed her back up against the holy well as he kneeled in front of her.

"You're alive, Lady Raven! Your Majesty!"


	2. A Protected Titan

**Author's note: **_I'm back! Cranked out another chapter in less than a week! I'm going to have Saturdays be my uploading days, so hopefully nothing hinders that from happening. Anyways! Thanks a lot to all the people who clicked on, looked, scanned, and/or actually read my first chapter! It made me really happy! I even got a review! Although it was by a close personal friend, but still! I was very happy someone liked it enough to review. :) I would love it if people would give me a review or follow the story, it makes me immensely happy! And I always write better chapters when I am happy! Anyways, I would like to give a big shout out to **Regina lunaris,** for giving me my first review and my first favorite, along with following my story! I would also like to thank **Demetra Blackstone **and **MysteryGirl2401** for being the first two to follow my story! You guys all rock my socks and make me a happy girl! Anyways! Onward Saint Francis! ;P To The Story!_

**Warning: There is some violence and some graphic details, but really, nothing horrible.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, believe me, if I did, Raven would have gotten with Robin and there would have been many character deaths. :/**

* * *

**Titan's Kingdom**

His padded feet made no noise as he stealthily made his way through the carnage. Dead bodies of peasants, holy people, and animals alike, littered the blood stained ground. Their bodies twisted in agony, their faces, what was left of them, were like burnt statues of terror with their missing limbs and melted eyes.

He turned his face away from the scene before him to blink away the tears that formed in his eyes because of the ferocious smell permeating the area. His dark eyes scanned the bodies looking for any sign of hope that She was still alive.

He let a deep growl of frustration escape his throat as he weaved in and out of the wreckage. Drawing in a deep breath, and wishing he hadn't, he ducked under the scorched remains of the holy place. He was doing his best not to dwell on the fact that he did not know what he was looking for. She would have changed so much in the five years she was living here. The only thing he knew would not change, would be the mysterious color of her hair.

Since the creation of Titan's Kingdom some thousand years ago, the royal family has always had the same pale cream skin, deep amethyst eyes, and thick deep purple hair. They had all been born with a beauty so rare, none could ever hope to compare. No matter where a royal went, there could be no mistaking the fact that they were of the royal blood.

Only, She was different. She had the same deep purple color of eyes and hair as the rest of her royal family, but the beauty and the pale creamy skin had never existed. It was no wonder, for anyone who had been alive and in the castle around the time She had been born, why. Luckily, he had been. He was immensely glad for that fact, as he hated when people knew things that he himself did not know. That was one of the reasons he was the greatest assassin-spy in the whole Kingdom. No matter the information, he would get it. No matter the prey, he would kill it. And no matter the task, he would complete it.

Which was more or less the reason why he found himself so frustrated at the moment. He knew the task, find Her. He knew the prey, anyone who got in his way. And he knew the information, She was here. He just didn't know WHERE here!

He contemplated softly calling out to her and immediately decided against it. He was not so old that he was hard of hearing, by any means, and he could hear the scuffling about of the raiders who were here for the exact same reason as he.

He gave a whispered grunt of approval as he soundlessly skirted a few corpses. If they were still looking for Her as well, then he still had time.

Dipping under a broken table in what used to be the kitchens, he dodged the raider who came stomping through muttering curses and kicking debris. He stopped stomping directly in front of the broken table and started speaking in a foreign tongue to another raider in a different room.

Tucking himself even deeper into the shadows, which wasn't very easy because he was a rather large man, he held his breath and listened in on their conversation. It wasn't hard really, because he knew every kind of tongue that existed inside and outside of the Kingdom. There were over one hundred different tongues outside of the Kingdom and only one known tongue inside the Kingdom. There were secrete tongues and code tongues inside the Kingdom of course, and he knew every one.

As soon as they were done shouting to each other over the space of separate rooms, the raider swiftly turned, muttered an oath, kicked a kitchen woman's corpse, and stomped loudly out of the room. Softly letting out the breath he had been holding, he started to slither out of the crevice he had squeezed himself into when a dancing light in the corner caught his eye.

Staying crouched down, he cautiously crept forward, keeping his ear open for unwanted intruders. There, laying in the corner of the room, lay a shattered looking-glass, no bigger than a small eating bowl. Normally, he would not have touched it, as it was a personal belief that if you messed with the scene, they would know you were there. But for some reason, he was transfixed. He felt a pulling, urging him to touch it, to take it back with him and fix the broken pieces. It was almost like the looking-glass was sad, begging him to just pick it up.

Against his better judgment, he reached out and picked up the abandoned object. The weight of the thing shocked him. It felt as if there was a small person living inside. Shifting the looking-glass in his hand he decided to turn it over, to remove the broken glass pieces, so that all that would remain was the outer shell. As he turned it over and started removing the glass, the word on the back of the shell caught his eye. Glancing around quickly, he dusted the ash and soot from the back of it to read the word.

His heart promptly stopped beating. "HERS" was carved into the delicate shell, in a hand that made the word seem spiteful. His heart slammed painfully against his rib cage like a crazed man against his dungeon's bars. He knew that it really did belong to Her. For no one else would have their belongings labeled that way. As if their very existence was a curse.

He took a harsh breath and slipped the shell into the pouch on his hip. Standing, he closed his eyes and listened intently for any sign of Her. In the distance he could hear the raiders abusing the corpses and talking angrily amongst themselves. It seemed, from their conversation, that they had found no trace of Her. For that, he was thankful.

Suddenly, he heard a faint tormented scream pierce the air. His breath caught as he held himself rigid, praying to whoever would listen that the raiders were hard of hearing. Darting out of the kitchens, he headed outside of what was left of the building. Glancing around, he noticed that the raiders were calling it a day, talking as if She was dead and gone. They laughed with each other and talked of how they would be coming back when the sun rose up to find Her corpse. Breathing a sigh of relief he realized that they had not heard Her scream.

Smirking at their impatience, he turned towards the wooded area of the land. He would bet his immense wealth that She was in there. He felt it in his bones. She was a smart girl, his Monarch, She would have headed towards the thick trees to hide. His only worry was Why She had screamed. If anyone hurt Her…

Picking his way around the various dead creatures littering the earth with practiced ease, he made his way stealthily towards the area with the most trees. It had been five years since he had been here on this holy place. Five long years.

* * *

He had been instructed by the Yahudhist Shepherd, who at that time had been the only Man of the Cloth in Titan's Kingdom, to retrieve Her Majesty and bring her to the holy place, for the Monarch was no longer safe at the last location she had been moved to previously. Though loathe to follow any command that the Shepherd gave, as the only one in the Kingdom he was the Monarch's guardian, he had left first thing that morning.

He remembered that meeting very well, as his memory was perfect… except when it came to finding his blasted right glove every morning… anyway, his memory was nearly perfect, so the image that graced his mind of that morning was very vivid.

He had worn peasant's clothing to lessen people's attention of the very large, very healthy, man entering the plague area. He had hunched over and tried to appear sickly, but really, as amazing as he looked, it was very difficult to pull off. He had his hair long back then, long thick locks of the darkest of black fell down his back nearly touching his rock-like derriere. He had gone on foot, plague ridden people rarely had the means for a horse, and arrived at the orphanage in record time. As he had neared the building, he remembers seeing a very sickly small child standing at the door holding the hem of her over-large green dress. He had immediately recognized her by her coloring. It was strange to him, seeing the royal coloring on something so sickly and different from normal royalty. He had taken his time, walking slowly up to her, so he could better take in his Monarch's appearance.

Her deep purple hair was short, falling limp and lifeless to her shoulders. An over-large cap was placed over her head, falling forward into her unnaturally large looking amethyst eyes. Eyes that looked at his coming towards her with wariness and fear. Her features were pretty despite her sickliness. High cheekbones, though not enough meat on her bones to make them plump and rosy. A tiny nose that swooped upwards at the end, giving her a pixie-like look. Her lips were big and full, at odds with the thinness of the rest of her face, though the corners were turned perpetually downwards, causing her to look sullen and pouting. Her chin was pointed, giving her a heart-shaped face, and her slim little neck led down to a slim little body. A body that was being dwarfed by a crudely made faded light green dress, a dress better suited to a chimney-sweep's daughter, not a Monarch. Her feet were so small and bare, it had made his chest ache.

And She stood there, eyeing him, shivering slightly. She had nothing else with her, no possessions, and no one was there to see her off. He had wondered, briefly, why the Shepherd had sent her to a place so diseased. Even if for Her safety, would it not do her more harm than not if She had gotten the plague and died here? He had eyed Her again and wondered, again briefly, if she was not already plague-ridden considering the fact that she had been there for three years already and that there was no sign of danger around and yet she had to be moved so quickly.

He had shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts, then stopped directly in front of her and crouched down to her level. Her eyes had widened even more, if possible, and she moved as if to take a step back away from him, but changed her mind half way through and held her ground. The look in her eyes had changed from a scared child to one of determination. Sticking her puffy bottom lip out and scrunching up her eyes, she clenched her fists tightly before dropping into a very swift curtsy. He had cracked a smile when, as she whipped her head back into a standing position, her over-large cap fell completely off and onto one of his boots. Her gasp was dramatic and full of fear, causing him to frown before promptly picking up her cap and extending it out to her. He had watched in amazement when that small action caused her to flinch and back away. Had she expected to get hit?

Anger had swelled up in his chest so quickly, he had gotten dizzy from it. Standing swiftly, he plopped the cap on her head, making sure it covered her eyes, then lifted her fragile body up and to his chest, causing a raspy squeak to rush out of her mouth.

"Shh, put your head on my shoulder and try to sleep, we have a long journey Your Majesty." His voice had been soft and deep as he put a small amount of pressure on her head until it touched his shoulder. Glaring up at the orphanage, he had half a mind to come back and light the place on fire, but he remembered the orphans and decided he had better not. He didn't need children's lives on his conscience. The Monarch had grasped his rough tunic in her bony little hands and lay there, rigid as a board until she fell asleep sometime later.

It had been a three-week journey from the plagued orphanage to the holy place, and during that time the Monarch did not speak. He had gotten her to smile near the end of their journey, but she never laughed and she never cried. Strangely it was as if she had no emotions. 'Because someone probably beat them all out of her.' He had thought in annoyance. By the time they had reached the holy place, he decided he liked his Monarch, quite a lot actually. Her quiet, somber demeanor was endearing, and he had enjoyed watching her when she thought he wasn't. She had let a smile slip out when that happened.

He grimaced as he remembered arriving at the holy place. Her hand had been tucked inside his, it would stay that way so long as he didn't look at her, when they walked up toward the large wooden building. As soon as he had rapped on the door, he had wished he could take it back. The holy women had yanked open the door, the whole lot of them had sour pinched faces, as if they had just eaten a rotten fruit, and they had curtsied to him, grabbed the Monarch by the arm and yanked her inside. He had grown furious and slammed his boot in the door before they could close it completely.

He had straightened his spine and glowered down at them, hoping to intimidate them with his sheer size. It had worked. They all gasped collectively, which creeped him out to no end, and shuffled backwards admitting him entry.

Staring them all down with hard black eyes, he frowned, searching the room for the little plum-colored head. Seeing it behind one of the holy women, he had stalked forward, head nearly brushing the top of the floor, causing the holy women to part like the red sea until he could see that one of the horrid holy women still had his Monarch in a bruising grip. Gritting his teeth together and clenching his jaw, he grabbed hold of the holy woman in the exact same bruising grip that she had on his Majesty.

"Does it feel good? To be grabbed in such a way?" He asked when she shrieked, his voice deeper than he remembered it being. Tightening his grip he continued, "No? I didn't think so."

The holy woman's eyes welled up and she shrieked again, "Unhand me Sir! I am a woman of holy blood! This is sacrilege!"

His grip only managed to get tighter. "Ah, yes, and I suppose it makes me a very bad man for treating such a holy blooded person as yourself so roughly?" The woman only nodded dumbly, her lip quivering.

"Mhm, I see, so what then, does that make you? For I am only mimicking your treatment of Our Monarch." His voice had risen with each word until he practically shouted. The holy woman's eyes were huge as she looked stupidly down at her hand, which was still in a death grip around the brittle little arm. The little girl's face was scrunched up in pain and her eyes screamed out for help, but her mouth did nothing but quiver.

"Let. Her. Go." Each word was forced out between painfully clenched teeth. "NOW!" He barked when she didn't let go fast enough. The holy woman dropped the small arm like it was on fire then flashed her eyes up at him expectantly. He could hear the whole collective of holy women holding their breath and glaring at the little plum haired girl.

The Monarch had grit her teeth and crossed her arms so she wouldn't cradle it and let on how much it hurt. If he had been a beast he would have roared. He squeezed the woman's arm tighter, not as tight as he could, mind you, for it would have broken, and glared at everyone in the room before saying, "She is your Monarch, no matter her size or coloring, or where she came from, she is your Majesty! Treat her like one! And if I happen to hear of ANYONE treating her as anything otherwise, and believe me I will hear, I have eyes and ears everywhere, You will be getting a special visit from Me. Understood?"

The collective nodded quickly and cleared a path to the door. Stooping down to pick up his plum haired pixie, he sent one last glare before carrying her outside and demanding to be shown the grounds. They had taken him everywhere, showed him every nook and cranny, per his demands, and showed him her room. It was small, but nice enough, with a hay mattress and various pieces of crudely made furniture.

Setting her down and kneeling, he had crooked his gloved finger under her chin and brought her face upwards until they had been seeing eye to eye. Staring at her hard, he had told her, "Never let anyone treat you like that again, understand? You are better than that. You are a Monarch, and not just Any Monarch, you are Their Monarch."

He had tilted his head to the side as he gently picked up her arm and surveyed the damage. There were five finger-shaped bruises formed on her upper arm, he had been surprised that her arm had not snapped in two! His heart had felt heavy as he glanced from her bruised limb up to her timid face. She was looking at her arm as well, noting, not for the first time, that her skin was very different from his. This always caused her expression to turn to one of self loathing. Unable to give her any explanations or any anything for that matter, he had been overwhelmed with sorrow for the little creature. She was far too tiny for her age. For a girl of seven, she looked to be about five.

Without further thought, he had tugged her arm over to his face and pressed a feather light kiss upon her discolored flesh. Putting her arm back down at her side, he looked up at her and felt heat settle on his face. Suddenly mortified at what he had done, he went to gruffly get back to his feet so the little imp couldn't see the Kingdom's greatest assassin-spy blush. Just as he went to stand, the Monarch had launched herself into his arms, throwing her mini limbs around his neck, with a strangled cry.

"Thank you, oh thank you, Sir!" She cried out in a voice no louder than a whisper. Her voice sounded underused and raspy, like her throat would start bleeding at the hint of a shout. He had felt his eyes well up as he roughly pulled her into a tight hug. What was it about this girl that made him this way? He had wondered. It made no sense! One single tear from her had the power to make him move a mountain in order for her to smile!

Fearing for his manhood, and the fact that he could do nothing more for her, he pushed her away from him and held her at arms length. Looking into her tearful eyes, full of wonder and a glimmer of hope, he tore his gaze away and with a whispered goodbye he had left. He did not let himself look back at her little face staring soulfully out her window at his back.

* * *

Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of thoughts of her. He had been thinking about her for the past five years. Worrying about her safety, her happiness… was she eating enough? Did they treat her fairly? Did they beat her?

He knew nothing. No one would tell him anything, and to be honest, he was afraid to know. He knew he was fully capable of killing the whole lot of them if they hurt her and that would do no one any good, so he pushed her out of his mind and squashed the worries as they came. It would do no good dwelling on something he could not change.

As he stepped onto a path, he subconsciously sidestepped a severed arm. Glancing down at it absently, his head jerked upwards as he heard the unmistakable gritty voice of his Monarch cursing the Heavens. His heart slammed a sporadic rhythm in his chest as his feet flew him silently towards the direction of her voice. As he ran, he swooped down and picked up an old rusted battle-axe that for strange reasons unknown was just laying in the brush.

As he came to a jarring stop, he noticed three things; he was standing in front of a clearing with a well in the middle, there was a man not four paces in front of him, the rather large smelly man had a weapon.. a nocked bow and he was aiming it at the well. Heart in his throat, restricting his breathing, he leaned to the left, just enough to see around the man, and his heart fell straight to his toes.

A severely disfigured child was sitting with his back to the wall, a look on his face of determined acceptance. His short-cropped hair was a deep purple. The same deep purple as his little pixie Monarch.

Within the space of a breath, he had moved forward, jumped in the air, and came down on the man's head with the battle-axe, at the same time he threw his leg around to kick the bow out of his hands.

Panting heavily, he stood over the dead man, who now lay at his Monarch's feet, where he belonged. He turned his horrified gaze to his Majesty's face and took in the severe swelling, the broken nose, the blood.. So much blood. His stomach turned as his voice was wrenched from his throat.

"Lady Raven! Lady Raven! Are you unhurt? Who did this to you!?" She just stared at him, not comprehending what he said at all. 'By all that is Holy! Is she deaf!?' His frantic mind raced. Shock! It had to be shock! Kneeling down in front of her he got closer to her face, Making her see him.

"You're Alive, Lady Raven! Your Majesty!" Grasping onto her shoulders he repeated the statement. She had to know that she was alive! She did not die! He had saved her! His grasp got more gentle as he watched the life come back into her eyes. Smiling down at her, he pulled her into a soft hug, noting that she really hadn't changed much at all, only grown a little. Pulling back, he crooked his finger and brought her face up to meet his before whispering.

"I will not let anyone hurt you anymore, my Lady, I will not leave you again." Raven's eyes grew wide with recognition and she threw her arms around his neck and cried, "Sir Bruce! You've come back!"


	3. A Salvaged Titan

**Authors Note: **_Hello everyone! I am finally able to post this! I was having some serious trouble getting the motivation to continue writing. I see that there are a few people reading my story, but I have to admit, I am not feeling very encouraged. I am not sure how people are liking the story plot or whatnot, and I would love some feedback. I got my second review from my girl **Regina lunaris** and another follower to add to my beautiful collection! Thank you **PhilosopherPony**! I am hoping to get some more feedback so I will have the motivation to continue this story. Hopefully you guys are loving it and are only finding minuscule problems with it. Also in the process of having my amazingly talented sister who is an artist read the story and draw some fan art for it! Hopefully we can get some of that! Anyways! Happy reading! Please enjoy!_

**Warnings: Nothing graphic in this chapter, the rating is for safety.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Teen Titans, or Batman, for that matter.. if I did.. Batman would not be in this story, he would be chained up in my bedroom where he belongs. .;**

* * *

**Titan's Kingdom**

Raven closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel the warmth coming from the big strong body of the man whom she hadn't laid eyes on in five long years. She was so shocked that he had come back, she did not know what to think or feel.

Sir Bruce had been the only person in the entirety of her existence to treat her like a normal human girl, well.. More like a normal human Monarch, but what mattered the most is that he made her feel like it was worth it. Living, that is. She did not feel like a cursed demon when she was in his presence, nor did she feel the hatred, anger, and loathing coming from him like she did with every other being she came in contact with.

Squeezing onto his neck tighter than she ever squeezed anything, she apologized to the Heavens for cursing them just moments before, and then thanked them for sending her the only living thing that cared for her.

"My Lady, it is almost dark out, we should move to some shelter. Can you walk?"

Raven felt her bloated face stretch and begin to throb as she tried to smile into his shoulder. "No." She was a girl of very few words and she did not talk unless absolutely necessary, so she did not feel the need to elaborate further. She knew it was a lie, and that she would probably be struck down by lighting for telling such a falsehood, but she simply did not want to lose the comfort and warmth of his arms.

"Is it so serious My Lady? Your legs? Or your face? What can I do to fix the problem?"

Raven wanted to jump for joy at the sound of genuine concern lacing her Assassin-Spy's voice. Wiggling her body even closer to Bruce's, Raven took a deep breath, smelling the outdoors and clean soap on his clothing. Wincing slightly at the pain of breathing through her wickedly smarting nose, she shook her head gently and mumbled sleepily, "I'll be fine after a small rest. Don't worry Sir Bruce, I will not die yet."

Bruce smiled softly, listening to his Lady's scratchy voice, muted from his clothing that her face was currently pressed into. No sooner had she spoken, than he felt her loosen up, a barely audible snore coming from her painful looking face.

Bruce felt his heart melt as he lifted his abused Monarch off the ground and started making his way back to a large bush he had spotted on his sprint over. It would do nicely for cover, shelter, and privacy. He wanted no unwanted company while his small treasure was sleeping so trustingly in his care.

Raven groaned slightly as she tried to nuzzle her face into the soft warmth that was surrounding her. She shifted her body deeper into the warmth and was just starting to relax and fall back into the blissful slumber that was trying to elude her when her eyes snapped open.

Where was she? Last thing she remembered was being attacked, almost killed, and then the miracle that was Sir Bruce showed up and told her he was there for her. So where was she now?

Lifting her throbbing head out of her surrounding warmth, she blinked her rapidly in confusion as she found herself laying under a tree, wrapped in furs, with hot coals just a few feet away from where her head had lain. Bruce was to her left, leaning against the tree with his eyes closed and his hand resting lightly on his heavy skin pelt that was around his thick waist. There was no light, as light would draw attention to their location, so she could not tell exactly where they were.

"Awake so soon my Lady? You should lay back down and get some rest, our journey home will begin soon." His voice was the barest of whispers she had to strain her ears to hear him. "It is not the wisest idea to move around in broad daylight until we get you something to cover up your features, so we shall stick to the thick trees until the sun starts to set, then we will move onto the main roads to the closest village."

Raven nodded her head slowly, her throat dry and her stomach empty. She was still tremendously tired, but her other basic needs were disrupting her slumber.

Bruce released a small smile when he heard her stomach growl quietly. Reaching into his pelt, he pulled out a small turtle's shell and placed it into her hands before standing up and silently fading into the night.

Raven stared down at the turtle shell in her hands in confusion. What was she supposed to do with this? Upon closer inspection she realized that the holes where the tail and legs would normally come out of were sealed up with some sort of black substance, and the hole where the head would be had a piece of smooth stone shoved in it.

Holding her breath, she gingerly gripped the stone with the hand not currently on the turtle, and tugged. The stone popped out of the shell with a vague grinding sound, causing the liquid inside to slosh around. Bringing it to her nose she very lightly sniffed, but being that her nose was still swollen, she did not smell anything.

'Well, it's not like Sir Bruce would try to poison me or anything.' She thought with a slight shrug. Tipping her head back, she dripped a little of the into her mouth. It tasted like water! Smiling to herself, and then smiling even harder because her face didn't hurt as much, she went to start guzzling the water before she willed herself to stop.

Raven stared at the turtle shell in agony, realizing that this was probably the only water that they had with them, and Bruce had given it to her without any thought to himself. Sighing with amusement she figured another sip wouldn't hurt as she brought the shell to her lips and took a gulp of the wet liquid.

Smiling to herself yet again, Raven laid back down on the furs and felt her mind get fuzzy. 'Where did Bruce go?' She wondered briefly before her eyes closed and a deep sleep claimed her.

Time passed in a blur. Raven was not sure how long she slept or why she slept so deeply, but she knew that it was a long time before she opened her eyes again. She moaned as she wiggled her stiff body, dimly aware that she was upside down, bouncing slightly, and she had a splitting headache. As soon as the moan had left her mouth the bouncing stopped, she was slithered into an upright position, and tasty bits of cooked meat were being shoved into her mouth.

Raven felt like drooling, the meat tasted so good. She tried her best to chew it, but her jaw felt like it was unhinged and didn't want to listen to her. Eyes still closed, she whined in frustrated embarrassment, when she realized her lips weren't working very well either and she was, in fact, drooling all down her chin, the meat going with it.

Raven jumped slightly from her place on the hard ground when she heard a disembodied chuckle go off somewhere behind her. Then she felt the sensation of cloth on her chin, and ground meat entering her mouth, followed closely behind by more water. Raven relaxed and swallowed the mix, happy she did not have to chew. After this routine happened a good three times, she felt the deep blackness that was sleep claim her once again.

This same thing happened at least four more times before Raven was able to wake up and stay awake. Raven forced her eyes open and willed herself to keep them open. She felt the remnants of sleep swirl in her head like a good dream, something she hadn't had in her whole life until now. She had dreamt of warm light, pretty dances, and snuggly embraces.

Shaking her head softly as if to knock out the rest of her sleepiness, she realized that nothing hurt. Her ankle was fine, her body was no longer sore and aching, and her face didn't hurt! Reaching up to touch her face, Raven gasped in stunned shock when her face felt completely normal! Her nose, her adorable pixie nose, was even back!

"How!?" She breathed in excited awe.

"You were healing, my Lady." Came the deep voice she had heard every time she awoke. "That potion you were drinking was not ordinary water. I made it so that you would sleep so deeply your body could heal itself. Forgive me my Lady."

Raven looked across the darkness to stare at the handsome face of her Assassin-Spy. "How long?" She asked in her deep, crackly, voice. Bruce seemed to consider for a moment before informing her. "It has been almost two weeks, my Lady."

Raven gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. A few days, surely, but almost two whole weeks!? Her brain began to pound an angry message against her skull. Bringing her hands up to the sides of her head, she delicately pressed onto her temples silently willing it to stop.

"Unfortunately, the head pain is a side effect of the mixture, I sincerely apologize your Majesty. It was the fastest way for you to heal, and it made traveling a little easier on both of us, as I could just carry you the whole way." Standing from his crouched position over their hot coals, he pointed into the far off distance and continued, "You see? We are but a weeks journey away from Titan's Kingdom, my Lady, Your home."

Raven nodded once stiffly, wincing as the pain intensified. "I am hungry." She stated as she took a look at the surrounding shrubbery, hoping to find some sort of edible something around. "Here, I have some freshly caught rabbit, I am cooking it over the coals now." Bruce spoke in a hushed voice, reaching out to the coals and squatting down to her level. "How is your jaw? Is it still sore or can you chew your food now?"

Raven glanced up at him, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the juicy looking slab of rabbit he held in his hands. Testing out her jaw, she noticed a small soreness to it, but it was the same with all of her limbs, just the smallest ache from lack of movement. "Sore, but it should be fine." Raven watched as Bruce nodded, started ripping the slab into small chunks, and setting the ripped bits into her hands. Feeling the greasy pieces in her hands, she wondered briefly what he had used to grind it up for her while she had been out of it. Slowly bringing it up to her mouth, she tried nibbling on a piece, grunting when she found how tough the meat was. Sighing in defeat, she popped a piece into her mouth and proceeded to suck on it until it softened up and was easier to chew.

Bruce watched her as he shredded the meat as best he could, smiling at her small dilemma. "Would you like my help again my Lady? I don't mind chewing it for you." Bruce almost burst out laughing at the horrified look on his lovely little Lady's face. Her eyes were bigger than humanly possible, her face scrunched up in disgust, her cheek was rounded from the chunk of rabbit, and her mouth was pinch in the cutest way.

"Y-you, Chewed my food… for me?" Raven said over the lump of meat in her mouth. She was surprised she hadn't choked on it! Suddenly flushed, Raven wanted to hide from her savior's humored gaze. "I..I need to relieve myself!" She stated with as much noble dignity as she could muster. She slowly got to her feet, looking down her nose at Sir Bruce the entirety of the time, and turned to walk in a heavily bushed direction before she stopped in her tracks, face stunned in thought.

"Sir Bruce… If I was indeed sleeping for as long as you have said… How is it.. That I was able to relieve myself.. Without waking, or ruining my clothes…?" Raven stood frozen, her back to him, afraid to know the answer, but needing the truth. She listened to the rustling of clothing as Bruce went to work cleaning up their small camp.

"My Lady…" Bruce hesitated, "I did not see anything that I was not supposed to. I know that to look upon your Majesty's form, as a man, is punishable by death. Do not worry, I was able to stop at various streams and puddles to clean our clothing whenever my Lady released herself." Bruce continued to pack up the remaining bits of meat, keeping his head down, and a serious tone in his voice to spare her any unnecessary embarrassment.

Raven's eyes filled with tears of humiliation as she thought of how many times she must have relieved herself all over him or worse… Stifling a mortified cry, Raven ran into the bushes and crouched down into a little ball, curling her legs up until she could rest her forehead on her knees. She tried thinking about pleasant things, to keep her mind off of the fact that she had shown her favorite person in the whole world the one side of her that no one else, not even her own parents had ever seen before.

Sure, she had been unclothed in the presence of other girls before, most people just ignored her, to the point that she wasn't even given a changing room. She had been forced to change and bathe in the hallway or in the kitchens, where she slept, so she was used to people seeing her and cringing in disgust whenever they did. But this.. This was different! No one had seen her relieve herself, let alone have them smell it, touch it, or clean it! She was very aware of how gross other people's waste was, as she was also in charge of taking out the chamber pots and cleaning them, it was horrid. And to know that the only person in the world who tolerated her as a living being, let alone Liked her, had dealt with her waste, it was almost too much to bear.

Raven felt her chin wobble and told herself not to cry. 'So what if this causes him to hate me? I can deal with hate, I have dealt with it my whole life! It will be something I am used to, I can…' Her train of thought was cut off at the sound of the bushes surrounding her rattling. Jerking her head up from her knees, she looked around for the cause of the noise. Seeing nothing, she went to plop her head back down, only pausing when her eyes caught something laying in front of her on the ground. Peering at it closely. Raven's cheeks blushed. A shredded piece of cloak with stained blood, used for cleaning your unmentionable areas, lay on the ground, clean and ready to be used.

Reaching out to touch the cloth, Raven's other hand flew to her stomach as her eyes widened. "W-was I the reason this cloth was bloody? D-did I happen to.. Become a woman.. While I slept?" A vague memory of tossing and turning from the stomach pain, and a stickiness between her legs made a fresh wave of self loathing and shame wash over her.

After a slight pause, she heard his voice from just beyond the bush, "Yes, your Majesty. I apologize that there was no one more worthy or proper to clean you up, but I had no other choice. If you wish it, you may order the knights to cut off my hands when we reach home, or I can cut one off myself now if you would prefer, but I cannot guarantee your safety as well with one arm and no backup." Bruce's pleasant voice was deep and filled with sorrow for her.

Raven bit back a sob and pressed her face harder against her legs, praying to the Heavens that they would zap her with lightning and end her humiliation once and for all.

"If it is of any consolation my Lady, it is not the first time that I have done it." After a brief pause Bruce continued, "I… Had a daughter once. She was hurt falling out of a tree and could not move for a long time… I was the one who cared for her… So it really is not that strange for me. I know it might have been presumptuous of me my Lady, but I just pretended you were her."

Raven listened intently as Bruce talked, hearing how hard it was to talk of the subject in his voice. Feeling strangely better, she could not help but ask, "Sir Bruce, your daughter.… What was her name? " A long pause, and then, "Helena. She died when she was your age."

"What.. How did she die?" Raven felt her throat close up, angry that a small jealous part of her was glad that the girl who got to call this man father, was no longer in this world.

"She was burned alive, in a fire, I could not save her. My wife, Selina, as well. Is there anything else you wish to know, my Lady?"

"Yes. Who did it?"

Another long pause, and finally, "I am unsure. There were no clues, and I have many enemies." Raven could sense the need to change the subject on the tip of his tongue and decided to spare him further pain. "Well, seeing as I never knew my father, nor was I ever likely to want to, and seeing as you are in need of a daughter around my age… I should like it.. If you could pretend.. "

"Your Majesty, I could never pretend to be the father of the Monarch. Such pretence could mean my death! I am just a normal man, serving you and keeping you safe, not worthy of being your father." Bruce interrupted her before she could finish.

"I see… So then… I am not good enough." It was stated as a matter-of-fact, as if it was normal for her to be "not good enough" and it angered him immensely. "No! My Lady…" Sighing in resignation he replied, "Maybe, if only while we are alone…" Before he could finish his sentence, the bushes were pushed aside and his petite Monarch was launching herself into his arms. "Thank you, oh thank you… Father."

Bruce's breath hitched in his throat at the sound of that word. "Thank you as well, my Lady."

"That will not do." Raven stated, pulling away from him and giving him a stern stare. "If I am to call you father, you are to call me by my name, and only my name."

"Is that an order my Lady?"

"Yes. It is."

Sighing in defeat, Bruce bowed his head in thought, before whipping his head up and staring her down with a gleam in his eyes. "Only when we are alone. The moment I so much as THINK we are not alone, I will drop all pretences, understood?" Raven shivered in excitement at the commanding tone he used. 'This is what it must feel like to have a father!' She thought. She was used to being bossed around and told what to do, no one ever called her anything other than "Hey You" or "Demon Girl" never anything other, so knowing that she was about to get the privilege of having someone actually address her by her name, made her more excited than anything!

"Yes! I understand, father."

Staring down at the slip of a girl staring up at him with stars in her eyes, he could not deny her anything, never mind the fact that she was his Monarch and he couldn't deny her anything anyways. Standing quickly, Bruce turned away from her and made his way towards the furs that she had been sleeping on earlier. "Hurry up and take care of your business, we need to be on our way… Raven."

Happy to the point of giddiness, Raven practically jumped into the bush and relieved herself in her breeches. Staring at her breeches as she did her business, she felt a sudden _zing_ go through her heart when she remembered her appearance. Her sheered hair fell in uneven lengths around her head, some pieces came to her chin, but most of them were as short as a boys. Her skin was ashen and deathly colored, not to mention her eyes and hair being the royal color. Her body was underdeveloped because she was malnourished and sickly her whole life.

Suddenly feeling inadequate compared to his real dead daughter, Raven became sullen. Quickly wiping herself clean and fastening her breeches again, Raven made her way out of the clearing and shuffled herself over to where Bruce was bagging the last of the hot coals.

"What did she look like?"

Not even pretending to not know what she was asking, Bruce answered in a voice that was both vague and loving at the same time. "She was tall, sturdy, with her mother's eyes, as blue as the cloudless sky, with strong features, a mischievous smile, hair as dark as night, like mine, and skin the color of untouched snow. Simply put, she was the most beautiful creature on this earth, aside from her mother." Bruce stood and stretched before continuing, ignoring the heartbroken look in his Lady's eyes. "Now, lets get moving my… Raven, if we don't leave now we will be discovered."

Raven swallowed the bile that had risen into her mouth from the words he had said. She had never considered herself to be a spiteful or jealous person, but at that very moment, she knew she was, and she felt the demon in her stir. She was glad that that perfect little girl was burned to death. She also hoped it had been painful. She did not like this part of herself. Not one bit.

The journey was long and tiresome, fairly uneventful, until the morning of the third day since her long slumber. They were only three or four days away from reaching the Kingdom when Sir Bruce wrapped his hand around her shoulder protectively and told her in a hushed voice to get on the ground.

Raven could hear them, loud voices, lots of them. They were laughing and fighting amongst themselves not forty paces ahead. Bruce pushed her down into the ground and told her not to move. Then, he pulled leaves and branches of bushes and trees over her until she was completely covered.

"I will be back, I promise, and for Heaven's sake, do not move!"

Raven watched helplessly as his black boots walked stealthily towards the cheering voices up ahead. After what seemed like hours, the laughter stopped and turned to angry shouting. Raven's breath hitched in her throat and she felt like she was going to die if she did not get out from under the leaves and branches. They suddenly felt as if they were a billion times heavier than her and it was insanely difficult to breathe.

Clenching her eyes closed she held herself as still as she possibly could and tried to concentrate on breathing. 'In… Out… In… Out…" Raven's eyes shot open and her body got impossibly still as she heard screaming and running coming from every direction. Tremors ran throughout her and she started panting, clenching her teeth and her sweaty hands.

Silence.

A black boot, just visible only five paces away from her face.

"My Lady? Are you unhurt?"

Breathing deeply in relief, Raven got to her knees and shoved all the brush off of her, eyes wide in wonder. "What happened?" She asked as she was pulled to her feet. "Are you alright Sir Bruce?"

"I am fine, my Lady, I take it you are unharmed as well. I am thankful you deemed it fitting to actually listen to me. Thank you for staying put." Bruce said with a tight smile.

Raven smiled back at him and proceeded to dust off her clothing. "What happened out there? Did you kill anyone?"

Without answering, Bruce walked back towards where all the screaming had taken place. Raven looked at the spot he had been standing not just ten seconds ago in confusion. 'Well that was rude. I wonder what that was about?' Raven continued thinking similar thoughts, hoping everything was ok, when she heard the rustling of the branches and trees signaling Bruce's return.

"Where did you…" Raven's question froze on her tongue as she watched Bruce yank a very thick looking chain and a very beautiful woman come stumbling through the brush after it. The chain wound around her upper body and ended around her neck, upper arms, and wrists. Her skin was the color of sunset, while her thick braid of hair was the color of fire. She wore a metal crown around her eyes, and dark purple strips of tunic wrapped around her most private places, leaving her middle exposed and her long oddly colored legs visible. She was tall, almost as tall as Sir Bruce, and sturdy, very strong from the look of her. What Raven could make out of her features were very beautiful.

Bruce yanked the chain hard towards her and then upwards causing the beautiful creature to stumble to her knees. "Pay your respects to your Monarch, slave. Introduce yourself."

When the woman gave no name, Bruce stepped behind her, pulled the chains up over her head, and down her back, causing her to arch backwards in a very painful looking manner. "I don't like repeating myself. I knew who you were from the moment I laid eyes on you all huddled up in that cage. Now, introduce yourself to your new Monarch or I'll rip your arms off of your torso and shove them down your throat."

Raven winced at the venom lacing his words and stared in awe at the beautiful woman. Why was the girl's eyes covered by that strange metal crown? She had a strange feeling that she was not going to like this girl. In fact, she had a suspicion that she was going to hate her.

Tilting her masked face up, the woman spoke in a soft bell-like voice, it was a voice fit for an angel, and it made Raven sick.

"I am Koriand'r, Princess of Tamaran."


	4. A Royal Titan

**Author's Note: **_I am back! Again! Hopefully I still have people reading this thing! Would love it if I got some coughreviewscoughfavoritescoughfollowscough, ugh, something in my lungs... Anyways! Would like to thank my newest follower! **Flight Moore**! She has got some neat DC stories as well, you guys should go check them out! Also, another review from my favorite (only) reviewer! **Regina lunaris**! She also happens to be working on an Inuyasha ff! You guys should go check hers out too! And, I am hoping I didn't go suuuuper ooc in this chapter, but it is very difficult trying to make them fit the story while staying completely in character. Muri! Well, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please REVIEW and let me know what you do and don't like with the story, and make a guess at who i'll introduce next! ttfn! 3_

**Warnings: Nothing horrible in this chapter. You lucky dog you.**

**Disclaimer: Teen Titans are not mine, nor is Bruce/Batman, though if you're offering them to me, I will take them off your hands!**

* * *

**Titan's Kingdom**

Raven's eyes widened in shock and her hands flew towards her opened mouth. 'What was the Princess of Tamaran doing on Titan's soil? And why was she in chains?' Raven felt her eyes seek Bruce's in hopes of finding answers there. Pity for her, his eyes were on the colorful creature on her knees in front of him. Feeling her jaw clench tightly, Raven dropped her now fisted hands down to her sides and drew herself up as tall as her tiny frame would allow. Looking down her nose at the woman, she tried to take on a snobbish-I'm-better-than-you-look, as she had seen directed at her so many times.

"Why are you here?" Raven asked in her achingly quiet tones.

Tilting her chin up and cocking her lovely head to the side, she spoke in a wounded voice, "What does it look like? I have been taken as a pleasure slave from my home lands and brought here to this heathen place! Ahh!" The woman let out a pained scream as Bruce yanked her chains back and shoved his boot into the small of her back, with enough force to cause pain, but no permanent damage. Darn.

"You will speak with respect to your Monarch, or you will be speaking without a tongue. Understood?"

Koriand'r grimaced and nodded her head, causing stray strands of fiery hair to fall from her messy braid and into her face. Bruce eased his grip on the chains but did not release them.

Raven stared at Koriand'r, trying to remember all that she knew about Tamaran. She remembered people talking about how barbaric the people were, some even said that they ate the people that lost to them in battle, leaving no prisoners. Raven shuddered slightly, eyes dropping down to the woman's small lips. They looked like they were thin, smooth and lovable, unlike her own. Raven's eyes narrowed.

"How did this come to be? You are a princess are you not?"

"Yes.. Your Majesty.. But I am not heir to the throne. My sister Komand'r is. She had our brother banished to an unknown region, and she tried to have me murdered." Her voice got an angry bitterness to it's angelic lilt. "I escaped with my life still intact, but instead of running, I challenged her for the throne. Sadly, there is no such thing as a fair fight with my sister. I lost, and as punishment, I was sold as a pleasure slave to those men your assassin killed so easily." The last statement held a note of admiration that caused Raven's insides to boil and rage.

"That seems a very cruel relationship you and your sister have. Are all Tamaraneans this hate-filled?" Bruce asked, not dropping his grip on the chains.

"Hmph! We are not "Hate-filled" as you say, we are a strong, independent, and powerful people. If someone does not do as they are commanded, they are given a chance to fight, if they win, they don't have to do as they were commanded, because the commander is now dead. If they lose, they are dead." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Sounds unstable and uncivilized to me." Bruce stated in disgust. "At least your sister let you live. Though not very dignified, you are still alive."

"Being sold into slavery is my sister's way of denying me my death. These chains may hold my strength, and this crown may hide my powers, but as soon as I am free, I will take the punishment that I was meant to have! I will have my death!"

Silence.

"So.. How are you going to do that?" Raven asked. "Are you going to kill yourself?" She was horrified at the thought. She had been through things that made her wish for death, but she did not have the willpower, nor the desire to take her own life.

"No! I would never do such a thing! A Tamaranean does not take ones own life! I will return to my sister, and I will attempt to kill her again. If I fail, I will have my death. But if I succeed, I shall become the next ruler of Tamaran."

Raven and Bruce looked at each other, both deep in thought. Raven could tell that Bruce would listen to whatever she commanded, but she was unsure of what she was supposed to do. She had never been one to Give the orders, always receiving them. But as Bruce had repeatedly told her, she was the Monarch, people would bow their heads and swear their swords to honor and obey her. They might never like her, but because of half the blood running through her body, they were forced to listen. Unless they killed her first.. But she did not want to thing on that.

"I had heard that the princesses of Tamaran were very young, yet you appear to be older. What is your age?" Raven could tell he was stalling, giving her time to decide what to do with her. The only problem was, she didn't know. If she listened to her gut instinct, she would have Bruce lop off her pretty head and send it back to her demonic sister as a peace offering. She would be saving her people from a potential future war and saving herself from having to deal with this image of unearthly beauty.

"For your people, I suppose we would be considered young, but for the people of Tamaran, sixteen and fourteen years since birth, that shows that you are strong. Most of our people do not live that long."

Bruce's eyes widened before he looked her up and down, blinking a few times. That obviously caught him off guard. Meanwhile, Raven was gaping at her, unable to take in what the crazy fire-haired woman had said. Fourteen? That was only two years older than herself!

Looking Koriand'r over and then looking at herself, Raven's hatred for her became intensified by thousands. Was Everyone always going to be better than she was?! Raven looked down at her shaking hands and realized, she had no idea what she was to do. Here she was getting overpoweringly angry at this girl all because she was jealous of her. Her anger turned to self-loathing, and she turned her back on Koriand'r. How was she supposed to rule a kingdom when she had a hard enough time trying to reign in her own feelings, thoughts, and emotions?

"Sir Bruce, I felt ok with ordering you to kill this woman, while I thought she was a woman, but I.. I don't want to see you with a child's blood on your hands. And as I do not have enough experience dealing with captive slaves, I am asking for your assistance on this. What do you think we should do with her?" Turning to face Bruce with her brave face on, Raven tried her hardest to appear older and more mature than she actually was.

Bruce watched his Monarch battle her inner demons, her eyes shining. He was a little shocked, for that was the longest sentence he had heard her say in the entirety of the time he had known her. He had no idea what was going on in her little head, but he could tell it was probably something demeaning towards herself. He had to admit, he was not expecting this.. Girl.. To be just older than his own dead daughter. She had the body of a grown woman, along with the bearings, and strength. But she was also from a rivaling kingdom. Would her hatred for her sister be strong enough that she would turn on her people and join the Titans? Or would her obvious love of her kind overpower her hatred for her sister, causing her to betray them?

Stifling a sigh, Bruce yanked on the chains, causing the girl to screech and tumble after him. Tying the chain around the thickest tree in the clearing, Bruce grabbed her by the face and sneered softly, "If you so much as move an inch, I will make sure to send your sister your bloody heart. Understood?"

Keeping her mouth tightly closed, Koriand'r nodded once and leaned against the tree, looking as if she were about to take a nap.

Bruce stalked over to where Raven was standing, still lost in thought, and tugged her to where they were just out of ear shot, but not out of sight of the girl. "What are your thoughts my Lady?"

Raven brought her lost gaze to his and shrugged her tiny shoulders. "I don't know. I am not a real Monarch, only half one.. And I have never dealt with this kind of situation before. I am used to people coming for my life, but I am unused to saving or taking another's life. You are an Assassin-Spy, I am sure you have killed many, and saved many as well, what do you suggest I do?"

Her large amethyst eyes looked frightened and nervous in the setting sun's light. Bruce shook his head sadly, wondering if she would ever gain the confidence that was needed to rule a kingdom. Heaving that sigh that he had stifled earlier, he informed her of what he had thought only moments before, curious as to what she would think.

"So, really, there is no "good way" to go about this situation. She can come with us and possibly betray us.. Or we could kill her, but then we risk Tamaran coming after us. Though the sisters hate each other, we don't need to give them any reason to attack Titan's Kingdom. We could let her go and hope that they kill each other, leaving the Tamaranean throne heirless. But that is a longshot, unlikely to happen. If anything, Koriand'r would announce that we helped her plan her attack, which would cause a war between our kingdoms. There really is not any sure way we can go about this, my Lady. The final word is yours, tell me what I am to do, and it will be done."

Raven's mind whirled at all the possibilities. 'Why is this so hard!? Why can't I ever have an easy choice.. Just one! That's all I ask!' Raven sent her thoughts to Heaven in hopes that she would get an answer. Quickly would be nice.

Glaring up at the sky when there was no immediate response, Raven crossed her skinny arms over her tiny wrapped chest and closed her eyes. 'No matter which choice I make, there is the possibility that something bad could happen. The thing I should worry about is, which one is the least damaging?'

Sending her glare across the clearing, to the girl leaning against the tree, Raven clenched her teeth and balled her fists at her side. She was fighting the voices in her head, telling her she was better off killing the creature. 'If I do that, how do I know that I did it for the good of my kingdom and not because I am jealous of her and want her destroyed? I don't. So it would be safer to keep her alive.'

The large hand on her shoulder paused her thought process. Looking up at Bruce's face, she suddenly knew what she Had to do. She hated killing, not that she had ever knowingly killed something, but she hated the thought of it. She did not want to be known as the Monarch whose first act was to kill a defenseless girl. She wanted peace. She wanted to be Loved by her people. And, even if it meant she could be betrayed, she wanted a friend. One that was preferably more ugly and not from a warring kingdom, but for now, this creature would have to do. Hopefully.

Turning away from Bruce, she picked her way through the bushes back to where the Tamaranean stood, now fully alert.

"Have you decided my fate? If you wish to kill me, you should do so now, while I am unable to stop you, because once you take off my shackles, my power is greater than the whole of Titan's knights." Her voice was honest, no trace of bluffing or bragging. 'Great..'

Raven shot a glance at Bruce, telling him with her eyes to restrain her. He obviously got the message, because he grabbed a hold of the Tamaranean's chain and stood behind her menacingly.

Taking a deep breath, Raven stepped forward and peered closely at the crown covering the girl's eyes. There seemed to be no way to get it off without causing damage to the person within it. Sending Bruce a confused look, Raven puffed air out of her pursed lips in frustration.

"My Lady is generous, if I had been in her position, you would be a head shorter. As it is, she is letting you live. How do we remove the crown?"

Raven was thankful that Bruce was making her out to be the "good guy" in this situation, though she felt like an imposter.

Koriand'r let out a soft gasp, obviously not expecting them to let her live. "While I am thankful, I believe it is a foolish move on your part. I could easily kill you both the minute you release me."

"So you've said. Twice now. Remind me again, and I will be forced to make good on all of my threats. Now, how do we remove the crown?" Bruce's patience was wearing thin. Not a good sign.

"You must melt it. I could do it myself, if my hands were unchained. If you refuse, melt it with whatever you have been using to cook your food. It should be hot enough." Again, her angelic voice came off honest, no sign of deception.

Raven cast Bruce a "uh-huh, suuuure." look over the Tamaranean's shoulder. Now, she wasn't the smartest person in the village, but she was at least a few steps up from the village idiot. At least, she had thought so, before she looked at Bruce's face. Now, she really wasn't sure. Raven was a little unnerved by the fact that Bruce seemed to be taking her seriously.

"I will get out the hot coals. If it happens to melt through that thick Tamaranean skull of yours, it will be no ones fault but your own." Bruce said, dropping the chain and stomping on it with his heavy boot, while digging into his fur pelt for the hot coals.

"You can't be serious." Raven deadpanned. "You will melt her head and I have already decided that would be a bad move on our part."

"Worry not, my Lady, Tamaraneans are beasts, not only are they stronger than any other, but their skin is so tough, arrows can't pierce it, heat cant hurt it, and cold can't freeze it. The only reason she has not broken these chains is, they have been coated with a herb that acts as a leech, sucking out her energy and releasing it into the air, so she is very weak at the moment. But the minute we get her free, her power will return." Bruce talked calmly and matter-of-factly as he struck the coals together, causing them to glow softly and burn hot. Using his booted foot that was not currently holding the chains in place, he kicked the back of the Tamaranean's knees, causing her to grunt out in surprise and fall into a kneeling position facing away from him.

Raven stared at the creature in front of her in awe. So much power. How come she had not been born a Tamaranean? Sure, she would have to eat her enemies, she would probably end up killing any potential lovers if they ever got into a quarrel, her skin would be thicker than a tree and the color of the setting sun, but she would be powerful, beautiful, and more than likely, she would have grown up loved.

Raven twitched as she watched Bruce shove the hot coals on either side of the girl's head, forcing the coals to melt into the crown. There was a sadistic glimmer in his eyes as he did so, as if a part of him was hoping her head would melt with the crown. Maybe she wasn't as evil as she thought, if Bruce was thinking the same thing as she. Then again, maybe they were both more evil than they thought…

Raven turned her head away from the sight, flinching as she smelled the stench of burned hair permeate the air. She could see Bruce sweating from the corner of her eye. 'His hands must be burning, his gloves cannot be all that thick. And I can't believe that she hasn't made a peep! I know that she has skin thicker than me, but if she is as weak as Bruce says she is, it should hurt some, shouldn't it?'

Raven turned again, when she heard Bruce drop the hot coals, and watched as he tucked his gloved hands into his fur cloak. She would have demanded that he show them to her and allow her to tend to them, but she was caught up in watching the crown fall to the ground, now split into two pieces. The creature's eyes clenched shut against the wind as it blew strands of her fire hair into her face. Then, as if in a dream, she slowly opened them until she was looking her captor in the eyes, face to face.

Raven's breath caught as she took at the beautiful wonder kneeling in front of her. Raven had thought she was beautiful before she had eyes, but now, now she was beyond words. Her eyes were big and round and the most stunning shade of green she had ever seen! Unlike Raven herself, the "white's" of Koriand'r's eyes were green as well, only more of a soft spring green, while her retinas were a deep shade of green, Raven had never even seen before. Her eyelashes were long and thick, a darker shade of the flame red hair that adorned her head. Her fiery eyebrows were like small round red caterpillars sitting above her bright eyes. Looking at her as a whole, Raven felt bile rise up in her throat, one thought thrumming through her mind. 'I should have killed her.'

Bruce watched the display with mixed emotions. He was never one to hand out trust to just anyone, but he did not trust this girl as far he could throw her, which, considering that she was practically a walking lump of steel, he doubted he could even lift her off the ground, much less heft her! He had to admit, though only to himself, he was not the biggest fan of Tamaraneans. Ok, fine, if he was being completely honest with himself, which rarely happens mind you, he would admit that he Hates them.

Bruce grimaced to himself as he looked at the searing burns that were already starting to bubble up under his glove. Well, what was left of his glove. Bruce tugged at the mutilated glove underneath his cloak, so as not to draw unwanted attention to himself, and clenched his jaw when he found that the glove had melded to his skin. This was going to be one mission he was not looking forward to.

Bruce looked back to where the girls seemed to be having a staring contest and peered suspiciously at the Tamaranean's face. She looked almost confused as she stared at his Monarch. He smirked slightly as he contemplated to himself. She probably had no idea that the Monarch that she had chosen to talk down to was such a young, sad, petite, little thing. It seemed that this bit of information was rather unnerving to her, but her discomfort made him Happy, so he did nothing to lift her unease. You see, it was very rare that Bruce could identify with the word, Happy. His happiness had seemingly died with his family in the fire, but today, right now, he was Happy. And all because a Tamaranean girl that he had captive, was uncomfortable.

He felt petty.

Happy, but petty.

Feeling that his Happiness, though long overdue, had gone on long enough, Bruce cleared his throat and rapped on the creature's head, successfully jarring her out of her stupor.

"Ah, I see you did not know that your Monarch was this lovely little thing, did you? I assume you thought she was some hardened warrior, thirsty for your putrid Tamaranean blood. But in fact, Lady Raven, whom you shall address as My Lady or My Monarch, has never directly killed anyone, nor has she ever met with your kind before. Though she nearly met her end because of a few rogue Tamaranean warriors a few weeks ago. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that.. Would you?" His voice was silk and steel, and dripping with malice.

Raven gasped slightly, her eyes flying between the Bruce's accusing eyes and Koriand'r's downcast ones. 'So, the reason that all of the holy people are dead, is because of her people?'

"My sister's handy work I assume. She fights very dirty. She probably thought that by killing off the only heir to Titan's Kingdom, she would be able to take the throne." Koriand'r looked thoughtful. "I am surprised that she did not succeed, you must be harder to kill than you look."

Raven had the sneaking suspicion that that statement had been a compliment.

"She is. She is also smarter than you would assume. And, the ruler of the Kingdom opposing your sister. The makings of a good ally is it not?" Bruce spoke what Koriand'r must have been thinking, because she was looking at Raven as if she were sizing her up.

"I am unsure. How can I trust a Kingdom that is against its own ruler. They have made many attempts on your life my Lady, have they not?"

"They have. But we are not asking you to trust the Kingdom. I am asking you to trust your Monarch. And by doing so, you could exact revenge on your sister, eventually taking the Tamaranean throne for yourself, with the Monarch's help. Our Kingdoms can then finally be at peace." Bruce watched Koriand'r's face, noting that she looked like she was warming up to the idea.

Raven watched the display with rapt attention. Bruce was saying everything that she had been thinking only moments before. But he was making it sound like it was all his idea. Who would want to trust and follow a Monarch who can't speak for herself? No one she knew.

Taking a deep breath, Raven spoke with as much zeal as she could muster. Which really wasn't that much, but for her, it's progress.

"You are forgetting one other thing Sir Bruce." Turning to the Tamaranean girl, Raven glanced around at the clearing noting that darkness was approaching fast, and then brought her gaze back to the beautiful face, "I.. grew up.. in many places." Was talking about your past ever this difficult? "And, because people don't like me.. I have never had.. A friend." Raven looked down at her dinky digits popping through the holes of her cloth booties. "I would very much.. Like one."

Raven felt her face heat up as she brought her eyes slowly up to the creature's face, wanting to see her reaction, but dreading it all the same. What she saw, took her by surprise. Koriand'r looked confused.

"What is this "Friend" you speak of? We have nothing like that in Tamaran."

"A friend is a person whom one knows, likes, and trusts, and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection. It could also mean, a person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause. In other words, a comrade." Her words were so automatic, she wanted to laugh. Wanted to, but didn't.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at her long, very accurate, definition of the word friend, to which she just blushed and shrugged. "I read a lot."

"I can tell." Bruce smiled. "That's a good thing. It means you are smarter than even I gave you credit for."

Raven smiled back at him, a small unsure smile, before looking back at the Tamaranean.

Koriand'r seemed lost in thought, staring at Raven as if she could see right through her. Then, before Bruce or Raven had time to react, she smiled, glanced down at the chains on her body, causing a bright green light to explode from her eyes and melt away the chains as if they were paper, and stood up.

Bruce lunged for her, while Raven just stared her down, still trying to get over the fact that she had green light shoot from those pretty eyes. No wonder they had them covered.

Before Bruce could cause her any harm, the Tamaranean bent down and grabbed onto Raven's hands, a soft smile on her face.

"I have never had a "Friend" either. Shall we learn how to be "Friends" together?"

Bruce almost tripped over his own feet. He was not expecting that. He was still clinging to the thought of her trying to do something suspicious so he could hit her with the poison dart he currently had in his hand. Hovering above the back of her neck. So. Tempting.

"I would.. Like that."

Raven could not believe her ears! She couldn't believe her mouth either. While the thought of not being killed and solving her Kingdom's problems sounded great, the thought of being any kind of Anything with this beautiful creature of light made her sick to her stomach. Her voices kept telling her she would regret this decision. Well. Too late to back out now.

"Then please, call me Kori, it is the name I prefer."

"Call me Raven." Yes. She was definitely going to regret this.


End file.
